Although not crud, it’s extremely predictable. The drummer stays in the pocket. And although it’s fun to reduce and reuse, tell your guitarists it’s not so compelling to recycle the same riffs over and over. The singer sounds like he’s gurgling tacks or screaming traffic directions. The lyrics – although with their hearts in the right place – are banal, vague, and self-fulfilling prophesies. (i.e. “We cannot trade compliance for the brass rings that they sell.” And “I know there’s an enemy. I know I’m not fucking wrong.”) You mean to say there’s bad people out there? You mean they want us to buy what they sell? You mean they’re not doing it for the good of humanity but for profit? Really? Really? I’ve never heard of that. Yeah, I’m making fun of you because the lyrical bar’s been raised since MDC.
–todd (Cheap Art)